


Fond and Unexpected

by nix_xon



Category: Discworld - Terry Pratchett
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:47:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28218717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nix_xon/pseuds/nix_xon
Summary: Rufus Drumknott was too intelligent to believe that he knew the patrician better than anyone else. However, he knew that the patrician had a fondness for small dogs, that he liked his tea strong and without sugar, that he was currently displeased with the man assembling the crossword in the Times, and that he was apparently in love with Sir Samuel Vimes.
Relationships: Havelock Vetinari/Samuel Vimes
Comments: 12
Kudos: 54





	Fond and Unexpected

**Author's Note:**

> This was an old draft from 2012 I found and polished up. I always meant for it to be part of a larger series, so I may add to it down the road.
> 
> Un-beta'd.

Rufus Drumknott was too intelligent to believe that he knew the patrician better than anyone else. The patrician took great pains to make sure that no one knew him very well at all, and even though Drumknott saw lord Vetinari almost every day he only knew what personal information he was supposed to see, but no more than that. 

However, he knew that the patrician had a fondness for small dogs, that much was obvious, and that he liked his tea strong and without sugar. He knew that the older man had a penchant for puzzles, but was currently displeased with the man assembling the crossword in the Times. (He lacked the same cunning mind as the woman he replaced.) He knew that on cold nights when the patrician’s leg hurt more than usual he sometimes liked to finish off the evening with a small measure of brandy as he looked out over the sleeping city. Well, not sleeping, not exactly: The Big Wahoonie never really _slept_ per say, but it was certainly having a quick nap to regain its strength before resuming the usual business of the day* (*Which in Ankh-Morpork generally consisted of one or more intentionally started fires, at least twenty fist-fights over the price of fish down at the market and the general citizens going about their lives in a hung-over, hateful haze. Nobby Nobbs was probably responsible for the tea money vanishing. Again.). He knew that the patrician cured his frustration brought on by the seemingly endless stacks of paperwork by contemplating his thud board. Drumknott knew the patrician smiled privately to himself when Lady Margolatta moved a particularly strong and aggressive dwarf. He knew that the patrician was a man with a cynical sense of humour and hid a sharp and deadly stiletto blade on his person at all times.

He knew that lord Vetinari spent his night alone in his cold and sombre rooms. Just like he knew it was a place that Vetinari only went to when biological imperative said that he must either sleep in his own bed or fall asleep at his desk, and which would his leg (not to mention pride) really prefer? He knew that the closest his master ever got to a romantic entanglement was four years ago at a Hogswatch banquet for the widows and families of clack’s men when Lady Lavia du Nesarit of Quirm tried to corner him by the punch bowl with a sprig of mistletoe. 

Drumknott knew what the patrician wanted him to know -- allowed him to know. Nothing else.

Until one morning. 

Drumknott entered the oblong office with a fresh file on a group of dwarves causing trouble for the Low King and stopped, frozen in the doorway. Commander Vimes of the watch stood in his usual spot in front of the large desk, his posture stiff and his eyes undoubtedly fixed just above the patrician’s left ear. The patrician nodded to Drumknott as he noticed him, and motioned for him to continue as he dismissed the watchman. The grizzled man left with a curt nod at the secretary and the patrician and Drumknott then began their routine. Namely: paperwork, paperwork, paperwork, meeting with the heads of a few guilds, paperwork, a council meeting, paperwork, paperwork, a quick break for Thud and a cuppa, and oh, more paperwork. 

The whole time, the only thing going through the clerk’s mind was the shear, unadulterated and most of all, unexpected, look that the patrician had on his face as he looked up at Vimes. Drumknott was familiar with most of the Patrician's minute facial expressions, but this one was completely new. It looked soft. Fond. A lot like... love. And yes, the old guard was unbelievably obtuse at times, and yes he made it a point not to look at the patrician directly when being given an order but Drumknott did not for an instant entertain the idea that a man as long on the force as Vimes was could have missed it. He wondered what look Vimes had given Vetinari in return before he had turned around.

“That will be all for tonight,” the patrician said as the ringing silence of the University’s tower ended the city-wide proclamation that it was now ten at night. He stood, as he always did at the end of the night, and moved to the window. His hands were clasped behind his back and his posture stiff.

Drumknott snapped out of his reverie, embarrassed that he seemed to have written next to nothing on the report in front of him. “Oh, yes. Yes, indeed. Very well, my lord, I will prepare the draft of the trade agreement with the Low King and have it ready for you to look over tomorrow morning.” Drumknott said as he gathered his papers and began clearing the patrician’s desk. “You have a meeting with Mr. Alfredson of the bargeworker’s guild first thing in the morning, so I will arrange for all of the windows to be open in preparation of his, rather … earthy smell.” He put the last pencil in place and risked a look up at the patrician, who now stood looking down at his thud board. Drumknott cleared his throat. “Good night, sir.”

“Good night, Drumknott.” The patrician said, absently.

Drumknott turned and began walking towards the door, when he heard the patrician speak again, “You are a good clerk, and a better man. I know that you would not use the knowledge you have gained today to hurt me in anyway, and please know that I never wanted you to know for precisely that same reason. If my enemies knew I had... confided in you, you could be in very grave danger indeed. But now that you do know, I must confess I am glad. I was finding it really quite tedious.”

Drumknott turned around to face his employer who had a small smile on his thin face. “I appreciate your concern and I understand your caution, sir. You’re right, I would never tell anyone."

The patrician gave his secretary a small nod. It was as close to a thank you that Drumknott knew he would get on the matter.

"To risk sounding impertinent, may I ask just one question sir?”

After a brief pause with the older man looking at Drumknott like he was a Thud piece in need of a new position he nodded and raised a hand in a gesture that clearly said “you may”.

“How long have the two of you been together, sir?”

The patrician smiled slowly. “Since shortly after I was shot, as it so happens.”

Drumknott let of a breath through his nose. “I know that this is not something I was ever meant to see, sir, but nonetheless, I feel like a fool not to have seen it this whole time. I’m sorry – I don’t mean to sound selfish or petty.”

“No, it’s perfectly reasonable, Drumknott. You pride yourself, quite rightly, may I add, on your skills at organizing my time as well as my paperwork, and this revelation has left you with a stack of paperwork and no file folder to put it in, am I correct?”

Drumknott chuckled. “Yes sir, that’s a very good way of putting it.”

The patrician nodded in understanding. “The best thing may in fact be, to not file the information anywhere at all.”

“Exactly what I was thinking, your lordship,” Drumknott agreed, looking at the dark clad man with more respect and fondness than he could ever remember doing before. “Some things are better left alone.”

The patrician spared his secretary a last smile before he turned back to his game.

Drumknott closed the door behind him with a soft click and smiled faintly at the fist-shaped dents in the plaster as he left.

He only remembered about the squeaky floorboard outside the office when he was almost home.


End file.
